


we secretly love each other

by realbutnotsopure



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: 4+1, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 06:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16571771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realbutnotsopure/pseuds/realbutnotsopure
Summary: Four times Ronan and Adam pretended to date, and one time they didn't.





	we secretly love each other

The first time that it happened, the two of them weren’t quite _friends_. There wasn’t really a word for the weird state of going from group-friends-at-best to I-just-sacrificed-something-important-for-you. Because if Adam was truly honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if he would have referred to Ronan as a friend before that night. But now, every and any word below friend felt wrong and guilty in his mouth, now that Ronan had proved his loyalty in such a manner, and left them both unsure, and a tiny bit awkward, with each other.

 

Adam wasn’t sure, and he hated himself for it, whether to thank Ronan, or to hate him. To thank him for his actions, for defending Adam when no one had done so in years, for fighting back, instead of turning a blind eye and driving away in full speed. Ronan had saved him, in a way, and Adam knew he should be grateful. Except Adam wouldn’t be able to say, down the line, that he saved himself. Ronan had taken away the choice of letting Adam leave on his own (flee, a voice whispered in his head), because in what world would Adam ever let Ronan get in serious trouble, his own pride be damned. But it happened, and made everything confusing. Gansey was the friend Ronan did this to, the acts of loyalty, the embarrassing faith and sacrifices for one another. Adam had never been the receiver of one of those actions of loyalty before, and because of it, he had no idea how to view Ronan. Were they friends now? Something less? Something more?

 

Yet here they were, mere days after Adam had moved out, (fled, it whispered), at the only bank office in Henrietta, to register a bank account in Adam’s name only. Adam Parrish and no one else. And as with all things considering money, Adam was in a pissy mood, swallowing feelings of embarrassment, shame and the weird ache that felt like grief he’d felt since he left his home. Adam would’ve preferred to do this alone, but since he hadn’t the slightest idea what to say or do, and since there was no way in hell that Adam would do this with the perfect, charming and _rich_ Gansey, Ronan went with him instead. They had driven to the bank that was only open for 4 hours on Tuesdays. Adam had, after careful consideration, although not as careful as it would’ve been a few days ago, asked for the day off, both at school and one of his jobs. He wasn’t sure how this would affect him, it felt like closing some sort of deal he hadn’t agreed to in the first place. Ronan hadn’t asked for any time off, but he came anyway. They had currently been sitting in the BMW for at least a minute, the time passed evident in the restless movement of Ronan beside him. Adam had been staring down at his hands, for once thinking of nothing, no one.

 

“Man, it’s not a big deal,” Ronan eventually said, causally, somehow missing the entire point. But Adam didn’t want to fight, not so soon after what happened, so he remained quiet.

 

“What I mean,” Ronan continued when it was clear that Adam wasn’t going to reply, “is that we only go in there, wait in line for a fucking hour, and then it’s over in four minutes. No need to piss your pants.”

 

Adam shot him a look at that and Ronan’s lips quirked. He reached out his hand and punched, perhaps gentler than usual, Adam in the arm and got out of the car, leaving Adam in silence. Adam took a second to close his eyes and breathe, and then got out after him.

 

* * *

 

Ronan hadn’t been joking, they had been standing in the line waiting for about forty minutes, barely moving forward. Ronan was restless and therefore angry. Adam was nervous and therefore quiet. They were standing behind two men who could’ve been either 40 or 60, Adam couldn’t tell, and a woman with such blonde hair that it was almost white. The same three people who, for the past thirty minutes or so, had been loudly complaining about the current economy, immigrations, the youth (this with several pointed looks at Ronan) and were now discussing the service provided at the bank, loud enough for the bank employees to hear. Adam had had his fair share of those people, who would find something to complain about, whether it was about their problem, the way he tried to fix it, or just Adam. Experience had taught Adam how to block them out. Ronan, apparently, hadn’t learned how to. He glowered at them, his hatred as subtle as their complaining. When one of the men made a racist remark about the female employee in front of them, Adam felt Ronan go rigid.

 

“Don’t do anything,” Adam whispered, and if anything, that was the wrong thing to say for Ronan immediately pounced.

 

“Hey, people over there,” Ronan proclaimed loudly while Adam closed his eyes. “Shut your faces.”

 

Time suddenly paused as every single person in the room stopped for a second. Adam didn’t need his eyes to feel the tension rising in the room. He opened them to see one of the men adjust his jacket and with a dismissive voice replied, “This is a private conversation.”

Ronan laughed, unkindly, “I’m pretty sure the entire building heard you complaining, actually.”

 

A strange mixture of fear, pride and excitement filled Adam. A mixture he supposed he long ago should have connected to Ronan. Because the beauty of Ronan Lynch was his revolution against everything, it was hard not to admire him for it. But if you’re not in the revolution, you’re against it. And Adam owed him. So when he opened his mouth, he let a little of his accent slip into his words, shaping them polite but pointed, “I don’t think this is the best place to speak loudly about, erm, personal matters.”

 

Ronan sent him a look that told Adam he approved, “Exactly. If you’re shouting about it, be prepared to stand for it.”

 

The woman replied, “We have a right to good service though. But the employee is slow, stressed and well, I wonder if she even understands English.”

 

Ronan’s voice went very low, “Show some fucking respect.”

 

The oldest man flinched and then straightened himself, “That is no way to speak. Now, you should both go home to your girlfriends-”

 

Ronan smirked so suddenly that Adam felt fear in his stomach, which worsened when Ronan threw his arm around Adam’s shoulder, and leaned his head against his. The fear turned into something else that Adam didn’t recognise. Ronan grinned, “No girlfriends for me, sir. I got what I want right here.”

 

The man quieted and the lady opened her mouth. Adam felt sick. Ronan almost growled, “You got something to say about that?”

 

It was the aggression it the way he said it that made Adam understand that this mattered more to Ronan than simply proving some old people wrong. Ronan continued, “At least we can behave. Adam, let’s get the fuck out of this place.”

 

Ronan pulled his arm until they were nearing the BMW. Adam’s head was a mess, he wasn’t sure what to feel. It felt as if a door had opened inside his mind, a new possibility he had never imagined opened ip.Imagine a world where Adam Parrish was dating Ronan Lynch. Adam wasn’t sure what he thought about it, and he was not sure he wanted it, but at the moment he couldn’t really think of anything else. He glanced at Ronan who sat breathing deeply in front of the steering wheel. Ronan met his eyes for a second before he glanced away.

 

A beat passed. “Fuck. Sorry, man, we didn’t get your account opened.”

 

_I’m not going back in there_ , passed unsaid.

 

Adam debated bringing up what just happened, what Ronan had said and what he had meant. But some feeling told him that it wasn’t the time. He said instead, “Nearest bank?”

 

Ronan thought about it for a second, and Adam chose not to comment on why Ronan knew about the banks surrounding Henrietta, when he himself most likely never had stepped foot there. Ronan replied,  “About two hours away. You got the entire day off, right?”

 

Adam had work in the late evening but he only nodded, grabbing Ronan’s phone to look the bank up, “It’s closing in about two hours though.” He paused, then said, ever so casually, “We might have to race a little.”

 

Ronan didn’t meet his eyes, but Adam could see him grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hello! I'm back!! This has been in my drafts forever!! Chapter 1 of 5!! Feel free to let me know if there are any mistakes or weird spelling, I made the decision to just post instead of going over the text again and again. Hope you enjoyed it though!! Thanks for reading<33
> 
> ps. this chapter is based on a true story that happened to me. fuck racist people. and fuck them even more if their reply when you call them out on it is "this is a private conversation." and shoutout to my guy friend who, when they referred to me as his girlfriend, only said "i'm gay" and left


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